Intruder
by Terrorking Tragedian
Summary: A footstep, then a crash shook the quiet apartment. Carly Shay whipped around and realised, to her horror, that she was not alone.
1. News

It started as an ill-conceived idea, and then evolved as I developed the idea in my head. Then I watched a crime show on TV involving several teenage girls falling prey and taken hostage by an escaped convict – a serial killer and rapist. This sudden burst sure helped me with at least five stories! (Bloody GCE Exams over! HURRAY!) Frequent readers of mine might find this boring, like everything else I write; after all, I write these things all the time...are you even sure? But I never get tired of them, anyway.

Anyway, no implied coupling. No sexual themes either, none implied, only violence and dark perverted thoughts. Therefore this is still a Teen-rated story.

Disclaimer: Didn't own iCarly, never owned iCarly, never WILL own iCarly.

* * *

**News**

"Seattle residents are today issued a public warning that an escaped convict is at large within or outside the city. Experts advise everyone to lock doors and windows, leave no children alone and unattended when outside the safety of your home, and be on a constant watch for danger. Citizens should be careful about their safety as well as those around them. Should this man be sighted, do not approach or confront him. Dial 911 and inform the police immediately..."

"Blah, blah, blah..." Sam thought aloud. She was silenced immediately by a sharp "Ssh!" from Carly, whose gaze was fixed to the newscaster on the large TV screen.

"The escaped convict, a serial killer and rapist, escaped from a low-security prison in Arizona three weeks ago. Since the breakout, he has invaded several homes and sexually assaulted and murdered their residents, all of them young teenage girls. While homicide investigators are on his trail, no one has yet to catch him. The Teenage Girl Killer, as he is also called..."

"Lame!" Sam said with a hint of contempt for the incredible unimaginative name. Of all names the media has dubbed criminals, this has got to be the worst, she thought, a sneer-like smile playing around on her lips as she began to imagine the newscaster as a brainless gorilla reading a dummy card for the camera...

"Sam!" Carly hissed.

"What? That's the dumbest nickname I've ever heard!"

"Be quiet, this is serious!"

The newscaster' report went on and on. Sam was zoning out; she hated his droning, monotonous and utterly lifeless voice he used whenever he was on camera. It sounded so much like the one her math teacher uses in class...

"Police intelligence and experts report that this criminal is trying to flee the United States of America for Vancouver in Canada. Experts also say that Seattle will be his last hiding place since the previous locations where he has been sighted. 'Seattle will be his gateway to Vancouver. We believe that since it's his last stop, he is also going to be extremely desperate and particularly dangerous at this time,' says the spokesman for the chief investigator of the FBI. 'Extra vigilance is required of the Seattle residents as we try to track this vicious criminal down and catch him before he reaches Canada.'"

"Next, the stock market prices have dropped significantly once again. Financial experts claim it is the worst recession..."

Sam could take it no more. "I need a sandwich," she said tartly, getting up from the couch and heading for the kitchen.

Carly got up and followed her. With a look and voice full of nervousness, she said, "Sam, this is serious stuff! You shouldn't be taking it so lightly."

"Come on," Sam said incredulously, laughing at the anxiousness on her friend's face. "They call this guy a Teenage Girl Killer. You can't get any phonier than that with that kind of stupid name."

"Yes, but this guy is dangerous. He's on the loose, and a few people already got killed! What if he comes here, and we..." Carly broke off in slight panic.

"So what?" Sam scoffed. "Half my family is dangerous, me included. I don't get why you're so scared."

"He's a murderer and rapist! Doesn't that tell you something about him?"

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever want to date him." Sam replied with a light-hearted sarcastic tone in her voice. "Wooh! I'm soooo scared!"

Sam pretended to shake in terror and nearly dropped the sandwich. She cursed, picked it up and proceeded to shove the thing into the mouth regardless. The humorous mocking and unintended comedy seemed to have reassured and cheered Carly up a little; at least someone was taking this news lightly. Carly laughed at herself for a moment, wondering exactly why she was so nervous about this serial-killer-on-the-loose whose name she didn't even remember, and probably would not ever meet.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Oops, she thought. iCarly rehearsal time.

"Hey, Sam," Carly said. "Maybe we should just mention this again for our viewers tonight. I know it doesn't mean anything to people uninvolved, but it might be good to at least warn people around Seattle...?"

"As long as it doesn't take us more than twenty seconds," Sam replied, unconcerned and with a sandwich crammed in her mouth.

"Alright," Carly laughed. "Come on, time to rehearse iCarly."

* * *

_iCarly time. Sorry, I'm just got tired of the usual story form, so you'll simply have to settle for this annoying format:_

Carly: Okay, iCarly viewers. Before we wrap tonight's show up, we just want to issue a very important public announcement for everyone in Seattle.

Sam: In case you just missed the horribly boring news report just now.

Carly: As we all know, there is a dangerous man on the loose...

Sam: ...who is not Freddie the dork.

Carly: He's much worse. He's an escaped convict.

Sam (phony hushed nervous tones): They call him the Teenage Girl Killer.

Carly: And he's currently trying to get to Vancouver...

Sam: ...in Canada...

Carly: ...and is somewhere in Seattle right now.

Sam: So everyone be careful...

Carly: ...and lock up all doors and windows,

Sam: ...and be careful.

Carly: 'Coz this guy is bad.

Sam: Evil.

Carly: Insane.

Sam: A maniac!

Carly: A nutcase!

Sam: And whatever you do, DON'T GIVE HIM A SANDWICH!!!

Carly: Unless you want him to do terrible things to you.

Sam('ghost' voice): Terrible!

Carly (elbowing Sam): For once on iCarly, we're serious. This dude is seriously perverted and evil. Stay out of trouble, please.

Sam: Okay, Carly, your twenty seconds is up.

Carly: Okay! Looks like we have to go!

Sam: I need a sandwich!

Carly: Don't forget to catch us live here, next week, on .

Sam: ONLY on .

Carly: So go there!

Sam: Do it!

Carly: Seriously!

Sam: And now, Carly and I will start making random farm animal noises.

(Carly and Sam started making nonsensical sheep and chicken noises)

"And we're clear!" Freddie announces.

* * *

Blood was dripping off the knife. Blood was seeping out of the girl's throat, where the screams came from seconds ago, and silenced by the cold metal blade. Blood oozed out and formed a dark red pool, which the little girl was now lying in; face down, as dead and cold as the room, the knife, the man's heart of stone.

It's a pity such a cute little girl had to die like this. After all, he could have had another ten minute's worth of fun with her before he killed her. But the girl was running towards the phone; an action that would jeopardize his entire mission. It's surprising even an eight-year-old knows how to do such things.

The convict was here not for the girl, but for food and money; he chose this home because it was empty save the little girl, and whosoever left previously was too asinine to remember to lock the door. He had to reach Vancouver first, before anything else, and not even an innocent child would stand in his way. He stamped her out like a cockroach, just like the other girls he preyed on in other states. Those weren't coincidences, of course. He aimed at girls at home, alone. The vulnerable ones, the ones he could have fun with.

But what's this? The man thought as he spied what the girl was watching on her computer before doing a runner and meeting her deserving fate. It was a web show, a live one, probably, and those two girls were talking about a certain escaped convict. A pervert. Of course, he thought with a wry smile. They were talking about him.

They are wrong on one thing. He was not in Seattle, not yet. He is in the suburbs, biding his time, but also rushing madly for Canada. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to drop by and visit the two girls before he took off? After all, they will never catch him. In particular, he liked the blonde girl. He wanted to touch it, to hurt it...

No, the escape was more important...

But the black-haired girl looks nice too...

Escape! Do not let it be ruined by a mere temptation!

But both the girls look so attractive...sexy, even...

Sure, why not? If he ever happened to meet them, he will give them some...

A grin appeared on the man's face. A maniacal, evil, twisted grin.

* * *

I understand that a convict trying to escape to Canada is not likely to barge into an apartment on the ninth storey of a flat out of hundreds in Seattle, when he's got other houses easier to get into, and a very important mission to complete. But for the sake of this story, I have to defy the laws of logic and do it as I plan! Because the regular 'menace around the neighbourhood' criminal is simply either too common, or I use those kind of criminals too often. This time I try something different, although not very sensible. (Hey, I'm just trying to follow the TV show, ok?)

Anyway, the iCarly web show is a take-turns speech thing, so there's no way I can write it in story format without taking me five hours to type. It's easier in speech form, but a bit annoying, also. Oh, I dunno...

Expect the worst next...if you know me well, you'll know exactly what to expect.

Terrorking tragedian


	2. Carly's Nightmare

Just read it.

Disclaimers: Please, you want me to take another one in the heart?! I don't own...oh, never mind...

* * *

Carly's Nightmare

Carly's night was far from peaceful...

The little girl drifted to sleep, to the land of nightmares, her heart ever heavy with the dark poisonous dread; an ominous feeling that something was very, very wrong.

_Halfway through an iCarly webcast:_

BOOM!!

Lewbert (downstairs in the lobby): Aaaaargh!! Wraaaagh!!

Sam: WHOA!! Look at that sucker blow!

Carly: And that's all for this week's segment of Messin' with Lewbert!

Sam: That'll keep him shaking for another month!

Carly: And now, it's time for…

BANG!

All of the sudden, the door to the studio swung wide open, slamming against the wall and flying off its hinges. The terrifying bang rocked the entire room, and as if an electric shock was inflicted, the three children jumped a foot into the air in fright. Standing at the door was a black-clad figure, huge and menacing, with a gun in his hand.

A guttural, deranged roar rattled the air.

"EVERYONE DOWN ON THE FLOOR! NOW!!"

The man brandished his gun and unleashed a volley of deafening fire. The children screamed in horror. Carly felt herself collapse into a protective fetal position on the floor without a moment's hesitation, with her hands over her head. Too shocked to make sense of the situation, all she could do during that split-second moment was lay there helplessly, quaking from head to toe.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Another infernal burst of shots, and it was answered by two blood-curdling screams of pain; they rose above the chaotic din and sent fear rushing through Carly's body. The girl screamed in sympathy and horror. Then, a second later, the cries of horror ceased, replaced by grim and terrified moaning.

Carly looked up, peering through the tears clouding her vision. She saw red. Blood red. Freddie was eagle-spread on the floor, and horrible oozing red was staining his shirt fast. Sam was leaning against the wall, clutching at her right arm. Tears flowed down her eyes as profusely as evilly dark crimson blood covered the pearly skin above her elbow.

The intruder advanced. Carly ducked her head back down and whimpered, and no sooner than that was done did she feel the hot metal barrel of the gun pressing against the back of her neck.

"Get up," he growled.

Shaking violently, Carly obeyed the command and rose to her feet. Her knees, suddenly weak like jelly, buckled, and Carly remained on all fours.

"Get up. Now."

The man nudged her head with the gun.

"Do as I say."

"Y-yes, sir."

Carly clambered to her feet, and for the first time, saw the man's face. His skin was quite brown, though he was Caucasian. His facial features were much marred by disfiguring scars; one in particular ran down his right cheek like a deep ridge on the surface of Mars. His dark eyes glittered like black beetles, peering vindictively out of sunken, wrinkled pits. A permanent, animalistic snarl was plastered on his face, and it made him the pristine image of a lion; a predator. A predator so violent and terrifying, so viciously evil. Carly realized, to her horror that she was staring right at the man whom she saw in the news warning yesterday. The escaped convict, the Teenage Girl Killer.

The girl, still shaking, started to sob in terror.

The man leaned forward and fixated his gaze in Carly's eyes. His eyes burned into hers, causing Carly to flinch visibly. The intruder, glad to have successfully instilled fear in his prey, lay down his orders.

"I want your money and food. All of it, in this apartment."

Carly was frozen and speechless.

"I want it. All of it. Do as I say, or die."

Carly did not answer, but stood rooted to the spot, sobbing pathetically.

The Killer's patience was spent. He pointed the sub-machine gun at the ceiling and let loose a stream of burning bullets, hitting the spot directly over Carly's head. The ear-splitting shots seemed to wake the girl up; she cried in alarm, jumped backwards, cowered and covered her ears to block out the sonic assault. Shards of metal and concrete powder showered over Carly's dark brown locks.

The teenager was definitely pulled out of her fog of fear. She faced the intruder with a forced expression of steel on her face, with every intention of hiding her trepidation and putting up a brave front in front of the threat. The quivering in her voice, however, betrayed her facade.

"Where's my brother?" she said slowly but deliberately. Quick nervous gasps of air made talking difficult.

"What, the man downstairs?" the man asked gruffly.

"Yes, him."

The man laughed loudly, evil permeating his raspy demonic voice.

"I shot the fool, didn't I?" he barked with content. "He stood in my way, and thought he could stop me!"

Carly stood stupified with shock and horror.

"So he was your brother? That explains much. I remember his last words, the corniest lines I've heard - "

"YOU KILLED SPENCER!?" Sam shouted shrilly in rage. Carly looked at her with mild surprise; until she spoke up, Carly had forgotten that her best friends were there in the same dire predicament.

A sadistic smile broke on the Killer's face. "Yes, pretty, I did. Would you like to hear those last words?"

Carly and Sam were speechless with shock, but still too frightened to move.

The man took on a higher, mocking quality in his voice. "'I'm not going to let you hurt my baby sister! Oh no, don't you dare touch a hair on those kids! Come back here, you damn bastard!' That stupid dog didn't know how to beg for mercy; he deserves his death -"

"You won't get away with this!" Sam screeched.

"Shut up!" the man snapped angrily. "It doesn't matter. I am a god, all must treat me like one! I shall be respected!"

He fired at the ceiling again. Both girls screamed and ducked, fearing for their lives as much as they wanted to avenge Spencer's.

"SO DO AS I SAY!" he roared. Flecks of spit landed on Carly's face and burned and stung like acid. "I want your money and food, NOW!!"

"You can find food in the kitchen. There's plenty there," Carly said tartly, crossing her arms in a gesture of brave defiance. "But you won't find much money around here."

"How much do you have?" the intruder spat.

"How much do you need?" Carly inquired acidly.

The teenager's waspish tone of voice infuriated the man. Sam shuddered with fear as she watched the dialogue, desperately thinking - and hoping Carly would hear her mentally: _Stop it, Carls! This is a bad idea! Don't talk back! You'll just make him angrier!_

The criminal was a fugitive, and no fool. He needed the girl to cooperate; if she did not or could not help him, he had wasted his time, and he would soon be captured...

Perhaps I need to get my point across in an even stronger way, the man thought, irritated and impatient. Faster than a blink of an eye, he slapped the girl on the cheek hard. The terrified girl cried and landed on the floor with a dull thud. The intruder persisted with the assault, and kicked her several times ferociously. Each time a blow landed, the girl would let out a wail of pain.

"Damn it, girl! Do you understand me? Or do I have to…"

Carly saw, from the corner of her eye, the intruder freeze in his tracks. Horror struck right at her heart as she realized he had spotted the camera. It was the recording camera for the iCarly webcast, and when Freddie fell, _it was still on_.

_Oh no._

The black-clad man whirled around, irate. "IS THIS A LIVE WEBCAST!!?" he snarled furiously.

Carly caught her breath. Somewhere to her right, Sam, still frozen in her place, gasped audibly. _We are in big trouble._

_"DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!"  
_

The Killer let out a tremendous bellow of rage, pointed his gun at the camera, and fired off a dozen deafening shots. The girls screamed; Sam collapsed onto the floor with her arms over her head. The hell-fire bullets destroyed the camera within a second. Then the man turned around, and Carly saw that he had only murder in his heart. The Killer would claim two more victims.

He fired at Carly, and immediately her legs felt piercing pain on several points. She cried out loud, and witnessed the bullets cut down Sam mercilessly. The man aimed at her legs, and as she screamed and wailed, he shot her in the abdomen, then finally in the chest. Sam then fell to the floor on her back, silenced at last.

Carly felt her legs, and she knew, from the searing needle-like pain, she had been shot many times. The man loomed over her, an evil smile now obvious on his pockmarked face. He was going to enjoy himself.

Carly could only cry and beg for mercy as the man climbed over her and unleashed a hailstorm of hard blows. Her hard facade had collapsed on itself, and the girl was now a helpless 'damsel in distress'.

"Please, no! Stop!"

"Be quiet girl, and shut up, or I'll kill you!" The Killer slapped Carly in the face again.

"NO! NO! AAAHH! STOP! PLEASE! DADDY! SPENCER! SPENCERRRRR!"

It was no use. He was suffocating her. She felt pain everywhere on her body, and was hopelessly defenseless. He was tugging at her clothes, trying to strip her bare. Carly felt her jeans being undone. She would struggle, yet she could not move. He was choking her, and the darkness closed in and bound her even more. He would rape her, and she would be dead.

Just as the darkness totally smothered her, she surrendered. The Teenage Girl Killer had won.

* * *

"SPENCERRRRR!!!"

"I'm here! I'm here!"

"NO - LET ME GO!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"Carly, wake up! Wake up!"

"PLEASE! STOP! LET ME GO! PLEEASE!!"

"Carly! For God's sake…"

Carly felt a slap across her cheek. It was more solid, and it burned longer. It was real. She sat up with a jolt, and for a terrifying two seconds, blindly struggled with the suffocating mass of bedcovers. Then she saw, through the haze of tears, that she was in her bedroom, drenched from head to toe in sweat. Her elder brother was beside her bed, with a bucket of water in his hand.

Her heartbeat was still racing, adrenaline still pumping. Carly was wide awake. Relief, unbelievably beautiful and comforting relief, dawned upon her as she realized the ordeal was only a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

"Carly, are you alright?" Spencer asked.

Carly squinted, and managed to see through the darkness, a look of genuine concern on his sweaty face. She gave him a smile and a wink. "I'm ok. I'll be fine."

"You were screaming your head off just now. Really scary."

"I'm sorry. I must have woken up the neighbours."

"No, that's okay. How're you feeling?"

"Oh my God, I've never been so scared. Good thing it's just a dream."

"Yeah well, I'm sure it was just a dream, seeing that you weren't anywhere but in bed, waking people up with your incredibly shrill screams."

"Hey!" Carly playfully threw a pillow at her brother, in response to his sarcastic tease.

Spencer kissed Carly on the cheek gently. It was slightly red from the impact of his palm. "Alright, now, go back to sleep," he said. "Sorry I had to slap you just now, by the way," he added apologetically.

"It's ok. Thanks, bro," Carly replied, tucking herself back into the bedcovers, then pushing them away again due to the stifling heat.

"G'night."

"Night."

As Spencer turned to leave, with the bucket in hand, Carly sat back up and popped a playful question with a cute chuckle.

"What were you going to do with that bucket of water?"

Spencer hovered for a moment with one foot in the air.

"Never mind."

* * *

It sucks! I know it sucks! It's plain crap! For some stupid reason, I can't write any better than this!

You know what? This writer's block is royally pissing me off. I think I'm done for now. I'm taking a holiday from the writing to recover my lost skills. (cursing repeatedly)

Sorry for the lack of quality in this chapter. When I come back, I will improve it.

_First edit on 13 Dec 2008: Ok, I did some rewriting and now I'm feeling much better. But it could still be improved...for one thing, shouldn't a dream sequence be more focused on the dreamer? (i.e. Carly) Perhaps I should review it later...  
_

Terrorking Tragedian, saying "Bye for now!"


End file.
